The Grand Duchess had disappeared.
Along with the child she carried in her womb.
The Grand Duke's estate was thrown into chaos, and a massive search party was mobilized to find her.
The Grand Duke himself, who had been away on the battlefield, hurried back and joined the search. Yet even after an entire month of searching, not the slightest clue or trace could be found.
The relentless weather made matters worse.
One day it rained, the next it snowed, erasing every possible trail.
Then, another month passed.
And one day, Radia Descartes, Grand Duchess of Descartes, was finally found.
Dead.
It was deep in the middle of a record-breaking snowstorm, in a forest not far from the Grand Duke's residence.
And—
The child who should have been with her was nowhere to be seen.
Mille Village, located at the southernmost tip of the Seraphium Empire.
The small, quiet village was unusually lively for the first time in a long while.
"So you're saying His Grace the Grand Duke has sent the Elite Corps to our village too?"
"That's what I've been telling you! Have you been getting fooled your whole life? They'll arrive tomorrow morning."
The village chief's confident reply sent the crowd into an uproar.
"Woooooo!"
The villagers gathered in the square cheered all at once.
Elvadin Descartes.
The Empire's only Grand Duke.
A man respected by every citizen of the Seraphium Empire.
He was renowned as one of the few true nobles who genuinely practiced noblesse oblige.
Most famous of all were the Guardian Corps and the Elite Corps, knight orders personally established by the Grand Duke.
The Guardian Corps traveled throughout the Empire helping citizens in need.
The Elite Corps sought out talented children from every corner of the land.
If a child was chosen by the Elite Corps, not only the child and their family but even their entire hometown would receive support from the Grand Duke's household.
For commoners who struggled every day just to survive, there was no greater opportunity.
"Come to think of it, wasn't the young heir of the Grand Duke's family discovered through the Elite Corps too?"
"That's right. Which means our children might have a chance as well!"
The villagers chatted excitedly, their eyes filled with hope.
Then someone who had been quietly listening spoke up.
"Village Chief."
"Hm?"
"When the Elite Corps arrives... aren't all the village children supposed to gather in the square?"
"That's right. It's one of their rules. Why?"
The villager glanced toward a house with a dark-blue roof near the village entrance.
"What about that child?"
"..."
The village chief followed the villager's gaze.
Then his expression darkened.
"Ah..."
Only then did he seem to remember.
"That child..."
His voice trailed off.
The villager pressed further.
"When the Elite Corps arrives, are you going to call that child too?"
The village chief sealed his lips shut.
The atmosphere in the square immediately grew awkward.
What should we do?
That child...
The child raised by the old woman known as the Witch of the Northern Mountain.
Every now and then, the child would come down to the village with the old witch Briola.
Whenever they did, the child would hide behind the old woman's back, timidly peeking out before quickly retreating again.
Brownish-gray hair. Brownish-gray eyes.
The child's delicate features had been quite pretty, if memory served.
But hidden beneath the deep hood of an oversized robe, they had never left much of an impression.
Then Briola died.
The villagers drew lots to decide who would take the child in.
Unfortunately, the child had terrible luck.
The lottery assigned the child to the most useless and violent man in the entire village.
A year passed.
The child spent that year living with the adoptive father and still failed to fit into village life.
The last time I saw that kid was about a week ago.
Although the child technically had a guardian now, there was no sign of proper care.
And nobody in the village paid much attention.
Now then... what was that kid's name again?
The village chief scratched his head.
Am I getting senile already?
Lucy?
Rosie?
No, that wasn't it.
Rosiang.
Lupid.
Romaine.
Lara.
Lili.
Lulu.
Lucille...
Ah! That's it!
Lucillea.
Snow had begun falling before dawn.
Carrying a laundry basket nearly as large as her upper body, Lucillea trudged through the snow toward the river at the edge of the village.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
After breaking through the frozen surface of the river, crystal-clear water flowed beneath the ice.
Lucillea tied back her wavy hair and pulled a piece of clothing from the basket.
It was a man's shirt.
Her adoptive father Shred's.
"Don't you dare come back to the village until every last piece of this laundry is done! Got it?!"
The shirt still reeked of alcohol from the night before.
Lucillea dipped it into the icy water without complaint.
Then she picked up a washing bat and began pounding the cloth.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
For an eight-year-old, her technique was surprisingly practiced.
At the same time, she hummed softly.
"Shred's head, head, shiny head~"
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
"Neck, neck, shoulders, shoulders, arms, arms~"
The amount of emotion she poured into each strike may have been her imagination.
Or perhaps not.
Only after thoroughly beating the crotch area of his trousers did she finally stop.
Did I get a little carried away?
The clothes seemed noticeably more tattered than before.
Oh well.
The man was drunk every day anyway.
Even if holes appeared in his pants, he probably wouldn't notice.
She tossed the washing bat aside and brought her tiny hands to her mouth.
Her fingertips had already turned bright red from the cold.
"Hoo... Hoo..."
She blew warm breath onto them while gazing down at the pile of laundry.
I only do this because he makes me, but when I've got a lot on my mind, laundry really is the best.
The freezing water cleared her thoughts.
The repetitive motions helped organize the chaos in her head.
Especially when she imagined the face of someone she hated while swinging the washing bat.
It was surprisingly therapeutic.
Which made this particular morning perfect.
Because recently, something impossible had happened.
I got my memories back.
Her memories from a previous life.
A month ago.
On her eighth birthday.
As if someone had thrown it at her as a gift, memories of her past life had suddenly returned.
Including the realization that she had reincarnated into a novel she once read.
And in that novel...
I was a villainess.
A villainess who became consumed by jealousy and resentment toward the male protagonist for taking away her father.
A villainess who nearly drove him to his death.
No wonder he comes back to kill me the moment he becomes Emperor.
Seriously.
Lucillea stared blankly at the snowy sky.
I wasn't even asking to be the heroine.
There were countless extras in that novel.
Countless nameless background characters.
So why?
Why, of all people—
Did I have to become a character with a scheduled death scene?
The falling snow offered no answer.
Just then—
[Lucy! Luuuuucy!]
A bright yellow parrot fluttered down through the snowfall.
[Lucy! I'm back! Cookie's back!]
The tiny bird spun circles above her head.
[Cute Cookie! Adorable Cookie! Good job, Cookie! Very good job indeed!]
After enthusiastically praising itself, it landed proudly atop Lucillea's head.
Its yellow wings, snow-white belly, round black eyes, rosy cheeks, and tiny crown-like crest made it look unbelievably cute.
Even more incredible, it could communicate with her.
Though it did have one flaw.
It never stopped talking.
Not that anyone else can hear it anyway.
Cookie's voice echoed directly inside Lucillea's mind.
Neither of them needed to speak aloud.
Whenever they wished, they could hear each other's thoughts.
Cookie puffed out its tiny chest.
[I checked the village just like you asked! You were right! Tons of people are gathered in the square!]
"...Really?"
[And that lousy adoptive father of yours was there too! Drunk first thing in the morning! A useless piece of trash like him ought to trip face-first and break his nose!]
Lucillea stared.
Such violent words coming from such a tiny beak.
Well... that's part of Cookie's charm.
Cookie flapped excitedly.
[We need to go! Right now! This Elite Corps thing is coming! Everyone says if you get picked, your whole life changes!]
"Yeah."
Lucillea nodded.
She picked Cookie up and settled him onto her shoulder.
Then she reached into the bottom of the laundry basket and pulled out a worn, shabby bag.
A bag she had packed in advance.
Waiting for this day.
I'm finally leaving this miserable village.
And that worthless adoptive father.
As she began walking toward the village square, determination blazed in her eyes.
"Let's go!"
She raised a fist dramatically.
"I'm going to turn my life around!"
Cookie shot into the air.
[YEAHHHHH!]
"And you're going to turn your bird life around too!"
[YEAHHHHHHHH!]